Push Comes To Shove Part 16

Hector grunted and headed out the door.

Kitchie rested her hands on her curvy hips. "What are you two up to?"

GP and Jewels turned to face her.

GP averted his eyes to the kitchen clock. 3:17 p.m.

Jewels had no shame. She matched Kitchie's questioning gaze. "Girl, we ain't f.u.c.king. I plead the fifth." She had the nylon bag cuffed behind her back.

"GP." Kitchie put her face up to his, forcing him to look at her.

"It's nothing, Mami."

"GP!"

"If you don't want me to lie, then don't ask me again. It's nothing; trust me."

"Uhm-hm, I suppose there's nothing in the bag either."

"Chill, Kitchie." He stroked the side of her face. "Let's go; visiting hour is about to start." He paused. "And when we get there, keep your cool. Please don't forget for one minute that we have to leave Junior and Secret there. Don't start no s.h.i.t."

"I'll bite my tongue for now. But I swear to G.o.d, GP, the day we bring my babies home, I'm going to dig deep and hawk spit in his face."

Jewels took a set of keys from the top of the refrigerator. "I'm gonna drop y'all off and go cop me a new cell phone. I like that new BlackBerry phone; it does everything but talk for you."

"I meant to ask you," GP said. "Who was that answering your phone last week?"

"I don't know. I lost it somewhere."

"Nah, this dude said you left the phone with him while you were gone. I left a message for you with him."

Jewels pulled the key out of the door. She stood still, thinking. "They said that I gave them my phone?"

"Yeah. Said that y'all was handling some business together. I thought that's how you knew we were in jail."

"That's strange." Jewels walked out of the building into the sunlight. "I wish I would find the motherf.u.c.ker who was finger-f.u.c.king my phone bill. I'd break my big toe knuckle deep in his a.s.s."

Kitchie climbed into the front seat of the Escalade. "How'd you know we were locked up, then?"

"I didn't until I found Secret and Junior sleeping in front of my door. Not to mention a hundred crying-a.s.s messages from your husband. Come get me, I can't take it in here. They're so much bigger than me." Come get me, I can't take it in here. They're so much bigger than me." Jewels laughed. Jewels laughed.

"Stop clowning." GP joined in her humor.

"I don't know what y'all are laughing at. That s.h.i.t is not funny whatsoever." Kitchie watched the scenery from her window.

The hatred shared between their silent exchange caused Kitchie's skin to crawl. Their silence seemed to communicate more than words possibly could. For Mr. Reynolds, the loathing had begun when GP was only nine years old. He'd discovered that GP had stolen a family heirloom of coins to buy a d.a.m.n Van Gogh drawing pad and a set of thirty-six prisma-color oil pencils. The handful of coins turned out to be worth over a million dollars. For GP, the loathing began when the beatings and various forms of mental torture wouldn't stop. The way Mr. Reynolds felt about the whole situation was that GP had stolen his express pa.s.s to the good life.

"What the h.e.l.l do you want?" Mr. Reynolds shattered the profound quiet, stepped out onto the platform porch, and pulled the door closed behind him.

Kitchie stuck her hand out. "I'm Kitchie Patterson and this is my husband. We're here to visit our kids, Secret and Greg Jr." She withdrew her hand; it was obvious that Mr. Reynolds wasn't interested in being cordial.

"The Patterson children are yours?" A wicked smile stretched across his chubby face. "I should've known that misfortune would strike me twice in the same place. Come in."

GP began to feel as though he had made the wrong decision in going there. He should've never revealed that Junior and Secret were connected to him. The sound of Mr. Reynolds's hard bottoms clicking in front of him brought back memories that he and the walls had often tried to forget.

"Is that for the children?" Mr. Reynolds pointed at the bag in Kitchie's hand.

"Yes. It's a few more outfits and a math book for Secret."

"I'll take it." Mr. Reynolds pushed the door open to a living room that had been converted to a visiting room.

"I wanted to-"

"Either I take the package for inspection or you can leave it at the desk and pick it up when you leave."

Fat b.i.t.c.h! "No problem." Kitchie gave him the bag. "GP, forgive me." She looked at Mr. Reynolds. "If your fat a.s.s ever puts your d.i.c.k-beaters on either one of my kids again, I will blow your f.u.c.king head off." "No problem." Kitchie gave him the bag. "GP, forgive me." She looked at Mr. Reynolds. "If your fat a.s.s ever puts your d.i.c.k-beaters on either one of my kids again, I will blow your f.u.c.king head off."

Mr. Reynolds laughed. "Your foul mouth is not appropriate. I've never touched your children. I don't have the slightest idea of what you're speaking about, Mrs. Patterson."

"Play dumb if you want. I'll repent for my sin later."

"That's enough, Kitchie." GP shook his head. Will you ever keep your mouth closed? Will you ever keep your mouth closed?

"You have thirty minutes to visit. Have a seat." He looked at GP. "Secret and Junior, Greg Jr Greg Jr., will be down shortly."

If looks were fatal, GP would've been brutally murdered.

"Sticky, what's up?" Jewels walked out of a mom-and-pop store talking on her new BlackBerry.

"I'm just shooting my regular. Everything is everything and I'm with anything lucrative."

"I take it it's still on for tonight."

"If your purse is right."

"When have you known me not to come correct?" She leaned against the Escalade and watched a chocolate girl's fat a.s.s in a pair of Apple Bottoms jeans. Jewels tried to picture the jeans. .h.i.tting her bedroom floor.

"After tonight, you're no longer a petty hustler."

"Take my new number and get at me if something changes before my graduation."

"Daddy!" Secret ran at top speed and jumped into GP's arms. She leaned over and kissed Kitchie's cheek. "You and Mommy came to take us home."

GP looked at the room's entrance. "Where's your brother?"

"He's coming. So we're going home with you and Mommy, right, Daddy?"

"Look at your hair." Kitchie pried Secret from GP's arms. "Come over here and sit down. Let me do something with this mess. Your father bought you a math book."

"We're not leaving, are we?" Secret's hopes started to fizzle.

Kitchie took out a comb, brush, some barrettes, and hair grease from her purse. "Not today but soon."

"Yeah, baby. Daddy promises to get y'all out of this place. I promise to-"

"Get me a bike, Secret a puppy...and new clothes." Junior eased into a chair, six seats away, with his arms folded. "Mommy's gonna get a big house. You always promise us stuff we never get. Secret, stop asking. We ain't getting nothing and we ain't going nowhere, just like everybody else here." He stared at the wall to his left, avoiding looking in the direction of his family.

Kitchie turned her wounded eyes on GP, then began to get up.

He stopped her. "No, I need to. This is about me." GP took in a deep breath, then sat beside Junior. "You have every reason to be upset with me. I've let you down." He shifted his gaze between the three of them. "I've failed all of y'all several times, and I'm not proud of it. Junior, when I promise you something, I have every intention of making it happen. I try to make y'all as many promises as I can, so I work real hard to get it."

"But we never get anything except the promise." Junior swung his feet back and forth.

GP noticed Mr. Reynolds standing at the entrance. He could hear the voice shouting in his head. You're just another black wh.o.r.e baby who'll never amount to nothing You're just another black wh.o.r.e baby who'll never amount to nothing. He clamped his eyelids, forcing Mr. Reynolds out. When he opened them again, Mr. Reynolds was doing a penguin walk down the narrow hall. "Listen to me, Junior. I won't make any more promises to any of y'all that I'm not prepared to deliver."

Junior looked at GP for the first time. "Should I play pretend? You even break your own promises. You said that you'll always protect us."

"I will. You can count on that."

"How can you protect us from Mr. Reynolds, and the rest of these mean people, if you're at home and we're here? Mommy, I wanna go back to my room."

Night had come quicker than usual, at least that's how Jewels felt about it as she eased the Escalade into the congested lot of the Improv Comedy Club. She spoke to her reflection in the rearview mirror. "Let's get paid, girl." She blew herself a kiss, then climbed from behind the steering wheel.

The door to the club opened and laughter poured out.

Jewels looked into the sky at the endless scatter of stars, and that's when she was forced to see a few stars of her own.

"You don't know? What the h.e.l.l you mean, you don't know what you're gonna do?" Kitchie punched GP in the chest, then climbed through the window and sat on the fire escape.

He kneeled by the window. "Kitchie-"

"Kitchie my G.o.dd.a.m.n a.s.s." She rattled off a few more cruddy sentences in Spanish. "Our children have been taken from us. They don't want to be there, and I sure as h.e.l.l don't want them in that place. And all the f.u.c.k you can come up with is you don't know you don't know."

"Take that s.h.i.t back in the house! You blowing the spot up with your loud-a.s.s mouth!" a hustler yelled from the parking lot below.

"Kiss my a.s.s, panocha!" Kitchie held up a middle finger.

"Come inside," GP said.

"I don't feel like being bothered with nothing or n.o.body but this breeze."

"I said, get your a.s.s in here."

"When I-"

"Now, dammit! I'm tired of your bulls.h.i.t!"

Kitchie understood that he meant business.

He stepped aside and helped her through the window.

"You're worried about me cussing out some punk. Your concern should be focused on the anger your son has built up toward you. He doesn't even respect you anymore. The sad part is I don't blame him."

Her words cut through GP. He drew his hand back to slap her with all of his might.

"So that's what it is now, GP? You're gonna hit me, motherf.u.c.ker? Go ahead, go on, kick my a.s.s real good because you're only gonna get one chance to do it. I hope you're real satisfied with the outcome."

He looked at his hand, fingers spread wide, and lowered it in guilt.

"Ten years, GP; ten years. I've let you drag me and my kids through every s.h.i.t hole in this city. I supported you in everything and gave up a career to help you skip down your dead-end, yellow brick road." A tear rolled off her cheek. "If you ever, I mean ever put your G.o.dd.a.m.n hands on me, you'll lose me faster than you're losing your son."

This time when she went out to the fire escape, she shut the window behind her and walked down to the parking lot.

"Hey, Little Mama, mind if I conversate with you for a few?"

Kitchie inspected the handsome, rugged hustler from head-to-toe. She hoped GP was watching from the window above. "What are we talking about, stranger?"

"I'm Desmond." He offered a hand.

"I'm-"

"Kitchie, I already know. I guess that means we're not strangers anymore."

She withdrew her hand and raised a brow. "How'd you know my name?"

"Everybody knows who you are. The walls in these buildings are paper thin. You and your man..." He jerked his head toward GP in the window. "Y'all broadcast your business to the whole 'hood."

"And this is what you wanted to talk to me about?"

You are so pretty is what he wanted to say but knew it would be inappropriate. "Nah, ma, not at all. I just want you to know I feel your pain. Me and my little sister was shipped from group home to foster home until I said f.u.c.k that s.h.i.t. We came a long way. Now I'm able to send her to college." He pulled out a knot of money. "I hope this will help you and your man get them kids back." is what he wanted to say but knew it would be inappropriate. "Nah, ma, not at all. I just want you to know I feel your pain. Me and my little sister was shipped from group home to foster home until I said f.u.c.k that s.h.i.t. We came a long way. Now I'm able to send her to college." He pulled out a knot of money. "I hope this will help you and your man get them kids back."

"I can't take this."

"Trust me, ma, it's nothing. If I didn't have it to give, I wouldn't offer it. And as it stands, you don't have the luxury of turning it down."

"Kitchie, what the h.e.l.l you think you're doing?" GP howled into the night from the fire escape.

She rolled her eyes and turned back to Desmond. "Thank you. This is very kind of you."

"I just wore them boots before, ma; that's all. Don't let your pride get in the way. If y'all need anything, I live in the apartment above Jewels." He pointed to GP, who was coming across the gra.s.s. "I think you better go. It looks like your man is foaming at the mouth."

Trouble tapped Dirty and pointed. "There goes that b.i.t.c.h right there."

They both watched Jewels back the Escalade into a parking s.p.a.ce.

"If this b.i.t.c.h buck at all, kill her." Trouble eased out of the car with his weapon, then blended into the night.

Dirty followed.